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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22928431">selfish</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/meshizuru/pseuds/meshizuru'>meshizuru</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Medication, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, post-dr3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:48:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,252</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22928431</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/meshizuru/pseuds/meshizuru</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"No one had ever made him feel so selfish, he thinks. He was nothing, always worthless, with no meaning to his life beyond a purpose he had to fulfill. To one day see his body stepped upon by those he worshipped, those whose place in this world was meant to be high above him. There was no room for someone like him to want, to yearn, to seek out what he desires, but in an instant, Hinata had broken that apart. He had shattered his worldview to pieces, and would never let him forget it."</p><p>Hinata wakes up with nightmares, and Komaeda has never slept all that well, anyways.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>227</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Mixed_Fics, komahina</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>selfish</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>so i'm new to writing danganronpa but i've put a lot of effort in to learning how to write komaeda, and minimal effort in comparison to understanding how to write other characters so be patient with me lmaooooooo</p><p>anyways some nice post-dr3 content, a liddol ficlet, before i decide to post more intense stuff</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bed creaks and shifts, and Komaeda’s sleep has never been proper. It’s enough to stir him, and he peeks his eyes open, and is met with Hinata’s back facing him, sitting on the edge of the bed.</p><p> </p><p>He’s since cut his hair back to normal. Whatever had been done to make his hair change colors is reversing, his roots are growing in that same muddy, soft brown, but the black lingers. Komaeda had suggested he dye it, but Hinata seemed reluctant to that idea.</p><p> </p><p>He hears a soft sigh escape Hinata, and watches as he drags his hands over his face, and in the dark of their bedroom, he can see him tremble ever so slightly. A frown takes Komaeda’s lips, and he shifts a bit himself, unable to let him feel this alone. This is not the first time since they escaped.</p><p> </p><p>When Hinata sets his hand back down on the bed, gripping the sheets with a tense, upset fervor, hesitantly, Komaeda moves his hand over, and places it over his.</p><p> </p><p>There’s a jolt that goes through Hinata’s body. Komaeda feels guilty, but he doesn’t move his hand. He sees the other turn around to face him.</p><p> </p><p>“I woke you,” Hinata sighs.</p><p> </p><p>“I was hardly sleeping,” Komaeda replies, giving him a weak smile. It doesn’t do much to comfort him. Hinata is well aware by now that not every smile Komaeda gives is genuine. He drops it.</p><p> </p><p>“Nightmares again?” Komaeda asks, his voice soft and sleepy. Hinata nods, a grunt in agreement rather than words. Kamukura is hardly gone, and in moments like this, it’s quite obvious to Komaeda. Hinata gets like this, sometimes. Days where he hurts so strongly that his emotions shut down, and he talks less, he smiles less. He’s shorter with him and others, irritated, his words are sharp and he seems apathetic. It’s difficult for Hinata, Komaeda thinks, and sometimes it feels difficult for himself. To relive the memories on that island, his own death and failures, and to remember the cruel, sedated nightmare their lives had become due to Enoshima. It's haunting, those memories a presence never gone.</p><p> </p><p>Komaeda sits up, shifting to sit beside him. He rests his chin on Hinata’s shoulder, feeling the other tense beneath him, but eventually relax. </p><p> </p><p>“You should talk to me about it,” Komaeda suggests. Hinata sighs, a response Komaeda often gets when he’s in this state. “I’m all ears, if I’m useful to you, Hinata-kun.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t say it like that,” Hinata bites, turning his head to frown at him. Komaeda doesn’t say anything, just smiles. “...It’s the same as it always is. I see everyone's bodies, on the island, a-and it’s fuzzy, but in that classroom... I see the blood on my hands, unable to stop it from pouring. I-” he takes a deep breath, it shakes with his entire frame. “I see you. Lying there in that goddamn warehouse. A spear in your stomach.”</p><p> </p><p>Komaeda’s smile falls again, and guilt claws at his chest. He often has to gripe with this. In his eyes, his plan hadn't worked, his death had been for nothing. Nanami died when he tried to save her, but...she had been dead all along. The anger he felt, knowing everyone he loved, even himself, had become the thing he despised the most...and even in his last moments, he...faltered.</p><p> </p><p>Had his plan been for nothing? His death, inconsequential? If in the end, they all still lived, they woke from that hell and breathed, no longer torn apart by despair, but still scarred from all they witnessed and committed.</p><p> </p><p>He wonders that often. All he had wanted was to have an impact, to leave his pathetic corpse at the feet of Hope, so that the world could shine brighter — no matter how miniscule. But it's difficult to imagine himself having some significance in the grand scheme of things, and always has been. He was dirt beneath Hope's shoes, a speck so easily crushed. And still yet, he wondered...</p><p> </p><p>Did he fail...or was this how it was meant to be? Was his failure, all in all, needed? Was it a stepping stone, even if not in the way he intended it?</p><p> </p><p>Standing hand in hand with Hinata, the day he woke up, he certainly felt that everything had led to that moment. As if the universe was built around Hinata, the stars fell for him, the sun rose and burned bright, and the waves parted, all in his name. And Komaeda's hand hardly deserved to be in his, trembling and frail, so weak and worthless in comparison to the hope that enveloped Hinata's being... but it felt right. As if he had been born to be by his side.</p><p> </p><p>Komaeda doesn’t know if he should feel guilty, or feel remorse. He’s apologized, but sometimes he wonders if he means it. He’d have done anything for the good of hope...and he did. Even if he faltered, at the idea of hurting Hinata, he still went through with it. He was a servant, and always had been.</p><p> </p><p>“...I’m sorry,” he says slowly.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not.”</p><p> </p><p>The response is quick, it’s short. It cuts through Komaeda. It <em>hurts</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“I want to be. I do not...like that I'm upsetting you, Hinata-kun.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really? You haven’t always felt that way.”</p><p> </p><p>Another thing Komaeda struggles to think about. Those weeks on the island feel like they could’ve lasted ages, and at the same time, only lasted a few days. It’s hard to make sense of, to understand his own thoughts. It always has been. When he learned Hinata was a reserve course he felt...angry. And so he flaunted that anger, he spat in Hinata’s face and treated him beneath himself. But he was angry at himself, as well. For many reasons.</p><p> </p><p>Namely, for letting himself love, and then letting himself love a <em>reserve course</em>, and promptly, letting himself throw that love away over something he now thinks may be insignificant.</p><p> </p><p>“I...I’ve apologized for that,” Komaeda says slowly. “My actions were deplorable. I am truly useless, Hinata-kun.”</p><p> </p><p>“Haven’t I told you to stop talking like that?”</p><p> </p><p>“...You have, but-”</p><p> </p><p>“Then <em>stop</em>.” Hinata cuts him off quickly. He’s sick and tired of hearing Komaeda put himself down. And he’s even more tired of it when he’s letting Kamukura slip through the cracks.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s quiet again.</p><p> </p><p>They linger in that silence for a little while, before Hinata starts to stand up.</p><p> </p><p>“Where are you going?” Komaeda is quick to ask.</p><p> </p><p>“Your medication,” he says, pointing at the digital clock on their bedside. Komaeda hadn’t even noticed the time. “It’s been long enough to have another dosage, and you know I'm not letting you out of this.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see.”</p><p> </p><p>Hinata grabs the medication from the dresser at the other edge of the cottage, and sits back down on the bed. Komaeda has righted himself, sitting properly on the edge as well, watching as Hinata reaches over and flicks the lamp on. The soft light strains his eyes for a moment, making Komaeda blink and rub at them.</p><p> </p><p>Hinata is quiet as he grabs his chin, turning his head to face him. He picks the pills out, and takes the glass of water off the bedside. Komaeda watches his meticulous movements, until his eyes meet his again.</p><p> </p><p>"Open."</p><p> </p><p>Komaeda parts his lips, not wanting to fight him on it. It's been a chore for Hinata to keep him on these since they escaped. Komaeda seems rather against the idea of medications, for whatever reason; Hinata can only guess it's because, for the longest time, he had given up on himself entirely. Komaeda isn't entirely sure himself why he's so averse.</p><p> </p><p>Hinata puts the pill on his tongue. The cold glass touches his lip, and Komaeda gingerly takes a sip, swallowing it. He opens his mouth again, before Hinata can demand it, to prove he actually did.</p><p> </p><p>"Good," Hinata praises, a sigh relaxing his shoulders as he sets the water back down. Komaeda watches quietly, hands in his lap. When Hinata turns back to him, he's surprised to suddenly feel the remnants of touch against his metal hand.</p><p> </p><p>It's strange, like a ghost whispering against the metal, he can feel ever so slightly, like his arm were still there. He sees Hinata's eyes fixate on it, fingers smoothing over the metal, as if a contraption built by his own mind were still perplexing.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, his eyes meet his again. “Nagito,” he begins. “Do you have nightmares?”</p><p> </p><p>His voice feels softer, Komaeda notes. He counts that as Kamukura’s grasp starting to release itself. This question, however, leaves him feeling vulnerable.</p><p> </p><p>“...I do,” he answers slowly. “As you know, I’ve had nightmares about many things for a long t-”</p><p> </p><p>“No. I mean about this,” Hinata interrupts him, his fingers trailing down the arm, meeting his artificial fingers with his own. “About the island. About...me.”</p><p> </p><p>“...Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>The silence that follows feels heavy. Komaeda doesn’t like the silence, he decides. It makes him feel uneasy, uncertain. Gently, he places his hand on Hinata’s wrist, and brings his hand down to his chest, holding it there against his heart.</p><p> </p><p>“You shouldn’t concern yourself with my nightmares, Hinata-kun,” he whispers. “They’re not important. I’ve dealt with things like this on my own for a while.”</p><p> </p><p>Hinata sighs, and his brows furrow. He looks away from Komaeda, staring at seemingly nothing. He finally speaks. “I don’t want you to deal with shit like this alone, don’t you get that?” he says, his voice stern, and...<em> hurt</em>. “You want me to tell you about my problems, but hardly tell me about your own.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not deserving of Hinata-kun’s sympathy-”</p><p> </p><p>“Stop.”</p><p> </p><p>Komaeda goes quiet. Hinata turns to him again, and his expression is serious. </p><p> </p><p>“You’ve done it before, but you always brush it off. Just once, talk to me about these things...normally.”</p><p> </p><p>“...I don’t see why you want to hear it, Hinata-kun.”</p><p> </p><p>“Because - because I <em>love </em>you, and I care about you. It matters to me that you feel happy, Nagito. And you can’t be happy if you don’t talk about these things. That’s why you make <em>me </em>open up about it to you, isn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>Komaeda is quiet. It lasts a small while, before he lets out a weak laugh. Something Hinata has noted in their time since leaving the island, Komaeda’s laugh has gotten softer. Less painful, less raspy.</p><p> </p><p>“...I hardly sleep, aha. I can’t sleep without dreaming about it,” he murmurs. His hands are shaking, and he tries to release his grip on Hinata’s so he doesn’t burden him with it. Hinata responds by holding his hand tighter.</p><p> </p><p>“It's...I see you, usually. Even in the darkest depths of my mind, I find you at the centre of everything. But I...can see everyone else, as well. Their bodies… I see the warehouse ceiling, the flames building up around me. I see a haze, feeling my chest tighten, my breath stolen, choking on nothing and everything at all at once. Then, nothing.”</p><p> </p><p>Hinata opens his mouth to respond, but can’t find the words. Komaeda meets his eyes once again, no longer staring off into space.</p><p> </p><p>“But you… Hinata-kun. I see…Kamukura. The way he...looked at me, as if I was nothing, unwavering as he held that gun." He pulls his gaze away again, looking at his shaky hands. "I will never forget it. I'm not sure...if it's a nightmare, or a dream. I remember feeling so grateful that someone like him, like you...could do me the honor of taking my life. And then feeling as if luck had spared my measly life, just to allow me to worship him."</p><p> </p><p>Komaeda pauses, not realizing he had begun to hug himself, a sick smile twisting at his lips as he tries to sort through the heavy thoughts in his mind, the piles of indiscernible worries, memories, devotions, and suffering. He laughs, beneath his breath, weak and pained, and meets Hinata's eyes again, his own swirling with pain and love all at once.</p><p> </p><p>"But it's you, Hinata-kun. It's always you...no matter where I look, everything leads me to you.”</p><p> </p><p>Hinata doesn’t try to respond this time, instead he wraps his arms around Komaeda, and breathes out a heavy sigh. Komaeda tenses up, just slightly, feeling his body seize up at the contact. He shares intimacy like this with Hinata often, it wasn’t new, but it was not something he was quite used to yet. And he feels vulnerable in this moment, as if he’s put his wretched heart and soul on display for Hinata to see. It’s a feeling he dislikes.</p><p> </p><p>Slowly, he returns the hug, and buries his head in Hinata’s shoulder, shutting his eyes. He wonders idly what sense Hinata makes of his nonsense ramblings, of the wretched, tangled up thoughts he’s put on the table. In his mind, it would only make sense for him to be annoyed, to dismiss his useless emotions, as if he’s trying to overshadow Hinata, when it was him who was originally woken from nightmares. But...</p><p> </p><p>“...I love you,” Hinata whispers, his hand carefully planting itself in Komaeda’s unruly curls, the other at his middle, holding him. The feeling soothes him, it makes him melt.</p><p> </p><p>“I-I love you too,” he returns with a shaky voice, never having been more certain of how he felt in his life, but still cautious to air it out. Gently holding Hinata, Komaeda’s fingers feeling his bare skin beneath his touch, moving slowly, hesitantly. It’s hard, sometimes. That uncertainty is still lingering, that fear of what may happen to Hinata because of him. A repeat of what already has. His luck is not an obstacle he ever imagined he could overcome. Only one he could escape with death. </p><p> </p><p>They remain like that for a moment, enjoying each other’s warmth, and Komaeda notes how he can feel the rise and fall of Hinata’s chest, he can feel his fingers gently push his hair around and tug tangles apart, and he can feel how desperate his hold is. Komaeda wonders just how anyone, especially <em>Hinata</em>, could feel anything akin to desperation for someone like <em>him</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually, Hinata draws back, but his hands cup Komaeda’s face, maintaining eye contact with him. Komaeda finds it mesmerizing to look in his eyes, one a deep, earthy green, and the other remaining that violent red. He wonders, at times, if it’s as black and white as his eyes make it seem, but to him, it feels as if Hinata prevails more often.</p><p> </p><p>Kamukura would not be touching him like this, after all, caring for him this deeply. But he would be quiet like this, just staring. Komaeda opens his mouth to break that silence.</p><p> </p><p>“Hinat-?”</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t get to finish speaking his name, silenced by Hinata’s lips on his own, urgent, but soft. Komaeda feels everything fall apart, shattering to pieces under a simple touch, and he leans in to kiss him back eagerly. It feels nice, it feels welcoming. Komaeda never imagined love could, or would, be his own. He feels his heartbeat quicken at the thought, and he grasps at Hinata’s arms, wanting to selfishly keep his touch where it was, to keep his lips on his.</p><p> </p><p>No one had ever made him feel so selfish, he thinks. He was nothing, always worthless, with no meaning to his life beyond a purpose he had to fulfill. To one day see his body stepped upon by those he worshipped, those whose place in this world was meant to be high above him. There was no room for someone like him to want, to yearn, to seek out what he desires, but in an instant, Hinata had broken that apart. He had shattered his worldview to pieces, and would never let him forget it.</p><p> </p><p>So Komaeda gives into the selfishness.</p><p> </p><p>Komaeda finds it impudent for his hands to do what they do, to wander over the expanse of Hinata’s skin, feeling every inch of warmth with desperation. He finds it beyond him to think he could do this, but Hinata has assured him tirelessly that it’s what he wants. That he wants the other close to him like this, touching him, <em>loving him</em>, and he has for a while longer than he’d like to admit.</p><p> </p><p>The kiss slows to a stop, and Hinata’s lips leave his own, and Komaeda struggles to not whine at the loss of it. Hinata’s forehead is pressed against his, leaning on him, half-lidded eyes gazing into his own. There’s no words to be spoken, as they both know just what they mean in this moment. Komaeda’s thumb smooths over Hinata’s wrist, over his palm, encouraging the feeling of his hands smooshed against his cheeks. </p><p> </p><p><em>It’s selfish</em>, Komaeda thinks, <em>but I feel as if I might die if I ever lost this touch</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you feeling better?” Komaeda asks, a bit of cheekiness belying his soft, sleepy voice. Hinata breathes, remaining quiet, though his eyes hardly waver from gazing at his own, before he lets them slip shut.</p><p> </p><p>“I think so,” he begins, sounding uncertain, but he shakes his head and looks at him again. “No, definitely. You’ve...you help, a lot. Just being here,” Hinata admits slowly, and Komaeda can feel his thumb smooth over his cheekbone. He sighs, breathlessly, and can’t stop himself from reacting so strongly to something that might seem so simple to someone else. His heart thumps in his chest.</p><p> </p><p>Komaeda elects to not respond, the words sitting on tongue being ones that would surely upset Hinata. But, he’s useful, and that makes him want to laugh with delight.</p><p> </p><p>“You haven’t slept, have you?” Hinata asks.</p><p> </p><p>“I was in and out of consciousness,” Komaeda tells him, and it’s the truth. Most nights go like that for him, and always have. Sleep is difficult, when so many things haunt his mind, and so many pains claw at his chest, raking their fingers down his body when they decide to cause him another bout of affliction. The best he’s ever slept, since his early, early years, is likely under the medications fed to him in the hospital. Even then, they can’t always do much. Sometimes, he lies awake, staring at the ceiling, his mind a mess of thoughts, of worries, of wishes, as he tries to figure out which ones to listen to, what stars to pluck delicately from the sky with frail fingers, and pledge his life to.</p><p> </p><p>“We should sleep, then,” Hinata says gruffly, exhaustion weighing on his voice. He doesn’t await a response, guiding Komaeda down to the bed with his arms, an unspoken desperation and selfishness of his own behind the actions, pulling Komaeda in close. It’s easy to press his nose to the crook of Hinata’s neck, breathing in deeply as his body relaxes against his, feeling his arms circle around him, one draped over his waist, the other burying itself in a mess of white on his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Goodnight, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda breathes to him, voice soft-spoken and low, but close to his ear.</p><p> </p><p>“Night,” Hinata responds, and Komaeda can feel his lips press to his temple in a tired gesture, before he’s suddenly gone, snoring soft against his hair. It’s funny to him, how easily Hinata falls asleep, and Komaeda wonders if it’ll ever be as easy for him, too.</p><p> </p><p>In his arms, he finds, it’s significantly easier than it ever has been. And slowly, but surely, Komaeda drifts off as well.</p>
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